


DEATH OF MUSIC

by ismellitblue



Category: Empire (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen, Hurt, M/M, Murder, Music, Songs, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 16:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14698254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ismellitblue/pseuds/ismellitblue
Summary: Music dies three times in Jamal Lyon's life and each time there's a gun involved.





	DEATH OF MUSIC

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own empire, i just love the drama it brings.Hope you guys enjoy this,leave a kudo or a comment if you do.Cheers!

Jamal had never liked guns.His father was a thug in a suit-more than willing to eat and shoot with the same hand-but he wasn’t built like that.

Then Freda came along.

Spitting rhymes left right and center,her soul and spirit thrown into the music.Her mind alight as she set verses on fire.

She was magic, she was a fury, and then …she was his siren, foreshadowing his death.

The night she aimed the gun at him there’ d been no sound, perhaps that’s why he’d survived.His siren hadn’t let out a wail-she’d just pulled the trigger and his world had gone silent.

***

After Freda, the music was muted.It didn’t sound as good as it used to, and he’d resigned himself to that.

But of course, like a humming bird mid-flight, it had comeback.But it hadn’t been the pure sound he was used to.It had been raw, grating-moving over his nerves like lightning.Fueled by the drugs instead of passion.

Then his family had stepped up and he’d gotten rid of the drugs,but somehow the music survived the exorcism.

***

Then along came Diana Dubois and a war unlike any his family, had ever had before.

In the aftermath, he didn’t really remember much about the fight.All he knew was that a gun had ended up in his hand and the next thing he knew he was watching the life bleed out of Angelo Dubois.

The first time _he was shot_ , the second time _he shot_.

Having the experience of being on both sides of the gun actually added to his hatred of the weapon.

***

After the affair with the Dubois was done, he’d picked himself up as best he could.

And just like always the music was there…waiting.His bothers were there too, and they helped keep him anchored.

He was a long way from being fine, but he was handling it better.He did his own thing, making a band with like-minded people and just being about the music.

It was fun, it was nice and most of all, it made him feel alive again.They practiced until well into the night, letting the songs lead them wherever they were going.

Then just like that it was over.

There was a moment, right before the first shot was fired.They’d finally nailed the hook, getting it right where they wanted it.He’d shared a look with Tory,sending a nod her way and before he could begin congratulating the other the shooting had started.

Being in the studio, there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.Bullets ripped through flesh and bone.Scattering blood and brain matter, like confetti at a wedding.The terrified screams of his band-mates were nothing like the beauty they’d just created,utterly ruining the perfection theyd created moment before,But when the last scream died out, he found himself wanting the agonized sounds back.

At least with the noise, he could still hope, still pretend that they’d all somehow be rescued.But in the silence, he realized he was alone, the only one left,kneeling beside Tory,staring at her lifeless eyes,not daring to look further down and see the gaping hole in her stomach.

***

His heart hurt, and when he placed a hand to his chest to try and silence it.It just made things worse.His whole body started shaking and before long he was clutching Tory’s lifeless body, crying into her hair.

There was a quiet chuckle from above him and he looked up tears blurring his vision.

He never saw the man’s face, all that awaited him was the muzzle of a rifle.

Just like the  first time he didn’t hear the gunshot, and he didn’t even feel it.All he knew was that one moment he was kneeling next to his friend and the next, he was staring up at the ceiling.

As his vision dimmed the lights seemed as though they were going off one by one- _a final curtain_ _call_.When his sight was finally gone and there was nothing left to focus on, he was forced to listen to the silence.

There were no more notes to play, no chords to strum, it was all gone.

The music was gone and this time Jamal knew he wouldn’t be getting  it back.


End file.
